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Why Did I Do That?
Crazy Quilt Mama is not a blog about sewing or quilting, although I love doing both, and I may write about them on occasion. So why did I name myself Crazy Quilt Mama? (Hint: it has very little to do with quilting; and everything to do with mindset.)
I’ve never liked crazy quilts. They’re made of scraps. They don’t match. There’s no pattern in a true crazy quilt, no order. They’re difficult and time-consuming to make, and you have to struggle to get the pieces to fit together. Honestly, I’ve always thought they were kind of ugly.
But I’m the Crazy Quilt Mama. My social media strategy includes three Facebook groups, a blog, and accounts on Pinterest, Instagram, Youtube and Periscope…all named Crazy Quilt Something. Why did I do that?
Plans That Go Awry
I’ll tell you why.
If you’re a type A, driven, control-needy, bossypants overplanner like I am, you do not intend for your life to look like a crazy quilt. Oh, no. Not even close. You have a plan and a pattern. You have been formulating this plan since early childhood. You have your pieces all cut out, stacked and ready. You know exactly how you’re going to put them together, and it will be exactly perfect. You spend years working the plan, getting all your ducks in a row, setting it up to be just what you envisioned.
Then real life happens. Something enters your life that causes your plan to go awry, and the pieces of your nice, neat pattern to be scattered and even broken into funny shapes. In my case, the plan itself was the culprit. Or rather, my Scarlett O’Hara-like ignoring of the warnings on the label. In bright bold letters, it said “WARNING: Following this plan may cause your dream to be scrambled and your pieces rearranged. Do not expect perfection. In fact, it’s best you ditch your previous plan completely and use what you have.”
Of course I ignored the warning label. I had a plan. And I like order, and patterns, and squares. Not crazy quilts, or squiggles, or anything disorderly.
Crazy Quilt Pieces
So life gave me pieces for a crazy quilt. And I’m learning to love it. I’m learning to appreciate the beauty of the process, if not the brokenness itself. My pattern won’t do me any good. I cannot predict what my Crazy Quilt Life will look like when it’s finished. (Is a crazy quilt ever really finished?) All I can do is spend time struggling to fit the pieces together, adjusting and compensating, adding and rearranging as I go.
But my quilt will be a success. It will be whole. It will be functional. Rewarding. Unique. It will be amazing. It will be full of stories and struggle and tears and laughter and silliness and pain and it will be full of us. It will be beautiful, for all its brokenness and disorder. And it will be more special to me than any perfect-plan life could’ve been.
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Books I recommend for Fostering and Adoption (affiliate link)